


Fickle

by VelvetDove



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Dark, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sex, Manipulation, Mild Sexual Content, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Power Imbalance, Slut Shaming, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetDove/pseuds/VelvetDove
Summary: It hurts to need the one who took it all away.
Relationships: Sebastian LaCroix/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Fickle

**Author's Note:**

> Recently got into Bloodlines and I'm completely obsessed with it. Seeing as I've wanted to get back into writing, I thought I'd write about the game.
> 
> Can also be read as a /reader, as the OC in question is only described as female. =)

For many, nightfall over the streets of downtown Los Angeles brought an excitement that came with the expectation of an evening spent in the company of good friends and good drinks. The smatter of colorful lights against the sky’s dark canvas held an allure that was irresistible to many, drawing admirers towards the city’s silent promise of twilight spectacles and moon-laced rendezvous. These deeds, all to be conveniently forgotten with the rising sun, left the night’s participants eager for guilt-free repeats of the same depravities the following evening.

This was not so for the ones familiar with the truths the night helped keep hidden. Los Angeles became neither fun nor simple, the bright lights that came alive unveiling the unspoken disdain for the living; the City of Angels became anything but, the name a mask worn to conceal the ugliness lurking just beneath the false beauty of the surface.

She stood in his penthouse, silent as slim fingers tugged at the hem of her dress, as if insistence would make the length a little longer, a little more modest. She could’ve been happy with this lifestyle, had it been one she’d been brought into consensually. But there had been no discussions, no mutual agreements. She’d caught his eye, and that was all it took for a life of simplicities and far-fetched dreams to become faded obscurities.

The blood did little to ease emotional distress as it did physical. Her hands shook as they searched the dress for non-existent strings to pluck away, obsessed - just as he was - with the idea of perfection. Her heart beat hard and fast, like it knew the pulse of life thrumming in her neck tantalized him in a way it should not. She knew, the moment her phone lit up with his name, that he was angry. She’d displeased him, gone against the wishes and commands he’d given her. He never believed her when she said Knox was only a friend. Someone kind who took pleasure comforting her and guiding her through a reality that, just months ago, she never would have considered beyond fantasy and romance novels.

She wasn’t quick and keen like Mercurio. It embarrassed her, how on-edge she was around Sebastian. She never could sense when or where he’d come from, his footfalls always quiet and calculated, like his intent each time was to scare her. 

To her credit, she only flinched when he slipped from the darkness to glide into the dim light of the bedroom. She stood straight, toes curling into the plush carpet beneath her. Holding his gaze proved time and again to be a difficult thing, especially bearing the knowledge of the power he could exert over her will should he wish to and still, she dared not let her eyes slip from his face.

“I see you’ve finally deemed it fitting to grace me with your presence.” his touch was soft against her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking the full pout of her bottom lip, but the croon of his voice held the lilt of a threat. 

Her knees buckled, her body submitting easily to the influence of his touch. “I didn’t intend to keep you waiting, Master. I never would.”

“Oh?” Sebastian sneered, his eyes narrowing. “I can never be certain with you. I do know how you love your… _liaisons,_ with fellow ghouls and lesser men. I’ve heard you’ve been shamelessly unfaithful to me.”

His fingers slipped from her cheek and wove through her hair, pulling her head back with a rough tug. Her neck tensed when she swallowed, a hot flush creeping into her skin. She fought to keep the fear from her face, but it was a battle seldom won.

His gaze did not waver as he backed her towards the bed. She knew, whether she protested or not, that he would take what he wanted. She learned quickly that consent meant little in this world, particularly to her Master. Denial was met with scorn and failure to comply meant what little autonomy she had would be taken away by powers she had yet to fully understand.

She took a sharp intake of breath as her legs bumped against the foot of the bed and Sebastian stood a little too close, smiling with sharp white teeth.

“I would never… you know I would never betray you, Sebastian.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because I’m more than some cheap, drug-addled whore, despite your unwarranted projections.”

It was a bittersweet thing, regret. She knew to hold her tongue, but there were days it managed to wiggle from her vice grip. She watched his eyebrows raise, the intimidating grin faltering from his face. She knew better. It was residual, that anger, the result of being plucked from her normal life and made to dangle at his fingertips and dance to his whims. What she felt was of little importance now, of course. When she did let it carry over, it only ever resulted in discipline. The last time she’d provoked his anger, he’d locked her away in a small and dark room, absent of windows and pastimes. She was cruelly deprived of his presence and no matter the amount of crying and screaming, he visited solely to feed on her. Only when their bond was in danger of completely deteriorating did he let her out.

Her mouth went dry and her throat burned, much as it did during her captivity.

“I beg your pardon?” 

It was barely more than a snarl. The sound pricked the skin along her nape.

“I only meant that I fully intend to reserve my body and its purity solely for you. I wouldn’t dream of anyone else.”

He could drag anything from her, truth or lie if he wished, but she knew he liked to watch her squirm. Exerting his power over her naturally, with the absence of supernatural abilities, brought him the most joy.

She felt him untangle from her hair, skimming his fingers down her neck, over her breasts. It seemed he found her answer tolerable.

“I see. My darling, you must be mindful of the way you conduct yourself. You are fickle at the best of times, and you know how jealousy takes me.”

“... of course, Master. I’ll be mindful.”

In the silence that fell, his hand cupped her chin, tilting her head back to expose the smooth curve of her neck. The other found its way beneath her dress, touching her thighs, slipping past the band of her panties. He would never take her, not fully - a virgin’s blood was always sweetest.

She fell to the mattress, back arched and head tilted. After he drank his fill, his fingers stroked against and inside her, curling in ways that enticed her to beg for more. She always did.


End file.
